


Bordering between human and monster

by Congar



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Teaser for a bigger project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 23:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20348452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Congar/pseuds/Congar
Summary: This chapter is to let you know that I've begun work on my next large project. After some time of world building and planning as opposed to the make-it-up-as-I-go approach that I did with The One Falls Anthology and The fireball in Jarasevo I'm now going ahead with the actual writing. As you can tell from this feeler chapter I'm also trying out a new writing style which I hope will come together as I get used to it.I unfortunately can't give any hints as to when this will release as it involves me essentially writing two stories, one of which will contain voice acting and will be presented parallel to the main story. From what I've seen this is something novel which hasn't been done before, so I'm excited for it. I will of course still be active onThe Fanfic Paradise Discord channelas I move forward with the project.I hope to see you later for:The Soul of our Hearts(Title may be subject to change)





	Bordering between human and monster

The Flipping Heart.

From the outside it was a passing watering hole that many a human, monster, and carriages with a varying mix of the two would pass by without as much as even a first glance towards it. Not because of its unassuming appearance, although that it did have with its rigid and functional wooden structure painted a fading tar-black generations past compensated by the shadows lurking within the many long and wide cracks in its supporting logs laid cross at a right angle. Just like the houses and buildings in the villages due east from the monster owned and human built tavern there was a magical flair to its corner-knots. 

The magical heart inscribed on the sign above the embiggened door widened to accommodate larger-sized monsters is where the whispered-of tavern derived its name from. Pulsating a slow and rhythmical white, it depicted the form of a monster soul upon the creaking and weathered sign. You’d be forgiven for believing that the magic was the only thing holding the sign together, because that’s exactly how it was.

Its location a stone or fireball throw away from the border to Hjearta made the white from the sign and the black from the outside walls a perfect gray on the gradient between monster and human which spanned from Jarasevo as the monster white all the way to Foermak as the human black. The road named Pulsaoder ended on the east side of the un-ceremonial border, and Main Road Three began just west of it. Looking up to greet your bird-monster friend would be enough for both human and monster to miss that they’d passed over the border, and that both nations prided themselves over. It made for a good line for the occasional village sport and magic festivals, but with The Flipping Heart so close-by the line blurred just as much as the visions did for the participants.

The last number of Main Road Three, Main Road Three 986, still had the same gravel in front of it as on the eastern side of the line in the gravel that was the border when the purple-cloaked human stepped foot in front of its large wooden door which color had been taken over from its normal gray as lit by the magical heart to a more colorful orange cast by the setting rays of the sun. The first glance came from underneath the hanging hood, peering just below the silky fabric. The first proper glance was always a proud moment for any that managed to muster enough courage to peek at it, but for the mage outside it wasn’t as shining as the sun pushing from behind. 

The Flipping Heart…

And the infamous magical drink served within its human walls. 

Only those well-traveled were allowed to order it. The first glance that so many failed to cast wasn’t even the first half of the courage needed to order the drink. To hold that glance even after entering the large wooden doors took even more. To steel it from not wandering off the rugged bartender polishing glasses with his many green-yellow tentacles oscillating between serving his customers with the local tap brewed from Golden Flowers, serving the other local tap brewed from more traditional hops, and cleaning up the stains from the monsters with grips incompatible with the glasses used. Finally the glance had to be held against not only the bartender’s flicking gaze towards his patrons to gauge their approval. If only one shook its head, be it a human or monster one, the first glance would be thrown downwards in shame. 

The gaze would then harden, and the many tentacles would fold over the bartender’s large and rounded torso as his two mouths would pout in opposite directions as he began casting his own observation over the holder of the first glance.

‘Judgment's always the heaviest when you seek and bring it upon yourself!’ boasted the framed letter above the shelves of liquor behind the bartender. The words penned so beautifully to express such haunting words weighed as heavy as the signature underneath them. Enlarged by the convex bubble of glass on the frame specially commissioned just for this letter.

‘Sir Gerson’

It’s this letter that caught the mage’s attention when the room was filled with increasing silence as the turning necks ripple out from the closing doors that thinned the setting sunlight to only a slim and vertical slice between the ill-fitted doors. It slashed vertically in contrast to the many horizontal slashes forcing their way through the gaps between the stacked logs of the tavern. As the light shifted from the mage’s cloak following its wielder’s steps, gasps emerged from nearby the walls furthest from the mage. The ripples of their entrance reverberated back towards them, bringing with it hushed whispers.

“Is that…?”

“It’s the cloak, right?”

“You think Loe will...”

Both human and monster voices spoke their reserved words among the other. While they were no stranger to important figures wanting to test their luck with the drink, it’s seldom that the entire tavern was silenced. Prosperous as the close villages on either side of the border were due to Pulsaoder and Main Road Three’s connection bringing with it trade, with The Flipping Heart being the weight that tipped the scales away from Main Road Two or Main Road Four, adding to the trade tourism not only from the important humans and monsters, but also the wake of peasant and merchants that would admire the wall of portraits who were blessed with the privilege of drinking what few were allowed. 

It never reached a point where the wall needed expanding to accommodate more tightened expression holding in the very nature of the drink they sought. Rumored to be a mixture of monster vodka and the secrete from Giant Hogweed, for those who’d seen the world and wanted to do a reset of sorts, this drink would remind them that there was still much to see and to experience even if you’d become complacent with your travels.

“The Accustomed’s Ambition,” the mage spoke as the Deltarune on the purple cloak settled on the hunched-over back. The hood which hid the deep-blue eyes peeled back over the light-brown hair still hiding the fair-skinned neck from behind. “On the rocks.”

The three eyes of Loe angled slightly upwards above the mage, but his tavern was too stunned to deny. It’s happened before, so the silence and lack of movement didn’t bother him. He let his head bounce down back to the mage.

Barely a second passed before he leaned down for a glass sized for liquor. What he poured into it though took the tavern by surprise. The slashing stripes of fiery sun were suffocated as the anticipation that’d built up and lifted the roof from the mage’s entrance petered out into confused murmur and furrowed brows, sinking the logs back together and closing the slits.

“Here’s something that’ll get some color back to your cheeks,” Loe offered to the mage. Something strong, yes, but not something that’d be worthy of a walled portrait. “You’re quite pale, my friend.”

The freshly-made ice clanked against the glass as they swirled around in the liquid as fiery as the outside sun. “...I see,” the mage replied before the thinned lips sampled their given drink. As if by magic, the pale cheeks began blossoming like the spring roses planted outside and pollinated all the way from Jarasevo by a ladybug monster. “Better?”

Loe nodded with both smiles summoned. “Better.” While corking the opened bottle he took the opportunity to ask more really to give the mage a reason to sigh out the frustration visibly building up within. “You here on a job or...” 

“Job,” the mage answered without emotion from within the angled glass after a sighing out their building frustrations within.

“Then I’ll leave you alone.” But before Loe could turn around to tend to a hedgehog monster beckoning for him a few meters away the mage took hold of his hand busy with the re-corked liquor bottle.

“A long job,” sighed the mage once again. Enough for Loe to understand as he placed the half-empty bottle down on the bar counter with a smirk. “On my tab.”

“Guess your employer forgot to specify what you mean by ‘expenditures’ again,” Loe left behind with the sunken mage as he finally took the call from the beckon.

“Oh you’ve no idea, Loe.”

The tavern returned to its previous chatter that it had swirling inside it before the mage entered like it always did after a challenger to the drink was denied. Not one more to join the wall that day. It’s rather strange the first time you’d see it. One would expect kings and queens and knights and legends to be proudly displayed, but in reality there’s only one king who’s face looked upon the rotating patrons day in and day out. The first human to be hung up on the wall, some said, but if you looked closely you can spot that the weathering on the wooden frame and the wooden planks behind it were different. What hung there before was smaller in size, but Loe refused to acknowledge it. 

Adamantly so, even.

And surrounding the human king were faces of monsters and humans that none outside the tavern walls would ever know. Traveling merchants and low-level mages. Not someone one would expect to be able to hold in their drink purely out of gumption and reputation alone, but that was the whole point with it. Your everyday monster and human who’d seen the world, but not gotten a statue for it. Seen it out of necessity of having enough money to eat for the week rather than glory and fame. Accustomed to the world’s road-gravel getting stuck in their frayed shoes and between furred and scaly toes because stopping and getting it out would risk them missing a delivery or an appointment.

The Accustomed’s Ambition was for those that needed the reset so that boredom didn’t eat at them from inside. For those that needed to realize that they hadn’t seen it all. To kick them in the head with the reminder so that they’d never forget.

More importantly though, merchants and low-level mages made for more outreaching promotion than a hero could ever. Single escapades have a decay in both time and area. A deed in Xoff didn’t travel far into Hjearta, but trade and wandering mages? Those could reach everywhere. The Accustomed’s Ambition was an advertising campaign in disguise, and there was only been one monster that figured it out.

Bonny Sallus.

Smiling through the burning pain second-to-last on the wall as the mage admired the wall from underneath the flipped-up hood, chuckling. Not only using alcohol to sterilize his patients, ey?

Bonny and the human king were the two exceptions to the peasant rule. Whether that made them more heroic or more peasantry was a debate that Leo was more than happy to fuel. Both in rumors and in glasses and tankards. Agree half-souledly with one side, agree with the other half to the other, all the while emptying the local taps four glasses at a time with his many tentacles.

“You’re from Jarasevo, mage?” a lynx monster pried as she leaned down on her furred elbow next to the hooded human. “I can tell from your cloak.” With a sweeping gesture she presented the patrons as if they were the finest audience in the Royal Theater, bouncing a fanged smile, ears, and her short, orange tail as she returned her hand as a fist onto her side. “We can all tell,” she informed almost as a threat. A smooth threat. Not looking for trouble only if the mage would be so kindly as to answer without a fuss. The purring at the end could be viewed differently if the mage didn’t have a job to do that evening, and as much as it would actually follow along the job description given, the mage was hesitant to humor that thought any further than a returning smile.

The respect that had the mage accepting the job in the first place hadn’t been dulled by the alcohol yet, and it wouldn’t be dulled for the rest of the night. It sat...strangely, almost as strangely as the lynx did as it tried to sensually straddle the barstool behind it while still leaning on its elbow.

“So what kind of city-magic can a mage donned in the royal colors produce?”

“I’m Cter,” the mage answered, and before the lynx could realize the awkward words the mage cursed the strange feeling that forced them to say it. That...respect! That damn respect! How could it have shaken the mage such? 

“That’s...nice,” the lynx offered after recuperating from the blurted answer flattening her ears behind her in confusion. They slowly perked up as she again leaned forward on her elbow. “As I was saying, we don’t get a lot of city-mages here, and when we do it’s always for some Royal Business. Last time it was that Monster Mage Kurant who stopped by and made a right mess when half the village tried to squeeze through the door at the same time.”

While the lynx was busy breathing in deeply through her nose and looking down the mage took the opportunity to fill up the emptied glass to the brim. The only reason the bottle touched lips glass instead of lips of flesh was because it would’ve compromised the job. City-mage… Had to remember that.

“I can tell by your cloak that you’ve at least visited the castle, mage.” The lynx’ words took on more and more growling rather than purring with each syllable that she spoke with her sharpened tongue. “And I’m only going to ask you once.”

It’s not a pretty sight seeing a monster bare physical anger against a human. The intent sown by the instigation from the monster always germinated quicker than it could prepare for within the human. Drowning beneath the avalanche born out of the angrily thrown snowball.

Judgment's always the heaviest when you seek and bring it upon yourself.

What silenced the tavern for the second time this evening was how the human’s neck craned back at the monster’s subdued growl. A human...and a mage to boot...relenting underneath the angry intent radiating from a monster? Had Loe not stepped in with his tentacles forming a barrier between the two the realization might’ve taken hold with the patrons. “Garance is still alive, Arice,” he said with both of his mouths in hardened frowns. “Had she been in Jarasevo I’d heard from Krygino, and you know that. Queen Toriel gave her word to her old benefactor that she would inform him, and him in return me. It’s the second time I’ve told you now, Arice. We all understand that your heart aches for your daughter, but you can’t harass my patrons because of that. You know as much.”

The intent shifts from the mage towards Loe, but this time it’s countered by the sound of a multitude of chairs squeaking as they’re relieved of the weight upon them and pushed back rapidly. The lynx monster huffed through her wrinkled muzzle before not as much excusing herself and her behavior as she did pick it up and leave like an angry child taking her ball with her home. While the explanation for her growling want for answer no one would disagree with, it did not excuse her behavior.

“She’s a tragic case, that Arice,” Loe said melancholy as he returned his tentacles back to tending his bar. “Closest I’ve seen a monster shifting color purely out of emotion. We all hope her daughter comes back to her one day. Little Garance always did have such wonderful stories about the adventures she’d go out and find. About how she’d see the world on the back of her auntie Glenne.”

Something about the lynx monster struck a chord with the mage. A chord held with quivering fingers clenched hard to suppress the tears that its minor scale would pluck. “I think I might mention Garance to my employer. Well traveled, that one is.” Before Loe could answer the same smug way he always did when that phrase was used the mage threw a haphazard hand in the air. “No, not on the wall.” Before the refilled glass could again make its acquaintance with the fleshy lips now turning more red by the second. “Yet.”

“Well then I’ll look forward to potentially serving then.” Loe only smiled the same misanthropic way he always did when he smelled a future challenger. “The label’s starting to yellow so if you could ask your employer to see the world a bit quicker that’d be appreciated.”

“Eighty days enough?”

“Sounds good.”

“Then I’ll make sure to pass that along.”

The evening crept ever so slowly along after that. A surprisingly quiet night despite a city-mage’s presence inside the tavern. Usually the leaking aura from such would at least alert the Feelers present and under cover. However, their lack of reaction spoke that this particular mage wasn’t a new one. Perhaps that was the reason why only Arice waltzed up and began asking questions? Perhaps it was the sour mood she left behind that discouraged any of the other monsters from asking further? The lack of any human interaction would’ve been questionable if it weren’t for the fact that there were only two of them excluding the mage. At the far end of the tavern drunk and half-asleep with their monster friends out on a stag night. Only when the yellow slashes were replaced by silvery ones did the two humans even notice the mage, but by that point they were already being carried out of the establishment by the slick grip of Loe’s yellow-tinted tentacles.

“When is your employer back?” he shoot over his shoulder with one mouth towards the mage with the bottle beside on the bar counter completely transparent. “Less than an hour?”

“Yup,” the mage nodded while tapping a tired finger on the glass that was just about as empty as the bottle. “Should be in from Hjearta any minute now.”

Chair upon chair flew up on their nearest table as Loe swept through his tavern like a cleaning hurricane. With his tentacles he always made short work of the cleaning which allowed him an hour extra to keep open compared to the human bars across the border. While the humans would argue against it being fair business when it came to refreshments they couldn’t in good faith not appreciate the increased traffic The Flipping Heart brought across Pulsaoder and Main Road Three. 

One carriage of that increased traffic left the nearest human town as the last chair went upside-down on the final table, heading towards Main Road Three with haste, but not enough to be suspicious.

“So,” Loe spoke with clear intent as he rounded the counter back behind his bar again. “Cter?”

The mage sighed into the last small ice cube left gliding around at the bottom of their glass. “Why?”

“Like I said, the label is starting to yellow. I don’t like throwing out alcohol. Especially not the one that’s put my tavern on every map there is, be it monster or human.” Leo reached down with a tentacle and brought up two new fresh glasses and a bottle with a white label but only with two fingers left of liquor left in it. “And I want to hear a bit more about this Cter so that I can decide whether or not it’s worth keeping it for another year or so or if I should make a commission for a new batch now. Costs me a chunk of my soul to do it, especially now-a-years.” The two fresh glasses were dirtied up equally before Loe poured the rest into the mage’s already dirtied glass. “So, Cter. Where did he find a cloak fit for a Monster Mage?”

“He?” the mage retorted before looking down and groaning in annoyance. “I forgot those too...” The rigid shoulders melted not only in exasperation, but physically as well. The soft features of the mage liquefied into a flat expression floating like leafs on a lake where someone’s just thrown in a giant boulder.

“Not like you to flub like that, Ojam,” Loe worded as if teasing but said with utmost concern. From above the rim of his drink he looked worryingly as the human mage in front of him disappeared into the cloak. Not due to the spectacle that would, and had, caused a few heaves from nearby humans. Not a lot of those in this closed bar though. The last one stumbled across the windows like shadowy jesters a couple of minutes ago. No, the worry from Loe was the color of Ojam’s transparent slime turning a mellow brown despite the purple fabric around his shriveling form. “Which again is why I want to hear more about Cter. Who is h...she?”

“A mage that I didn’t charge a fee for...”

Loe waited as Ojam respectfully folded the Deltarune-inscribed cloak and laid it upon the bar counter a safe distance away from any spillage that might occur as Loe’s glass began slipping out of his stunned tentacle. The white threads shone brighter than the moon casting its ray between the maze of chair legs standing proud and high.

“You think the alibi still worked even if I flubbed twice with my transformation?” Ojam spoke as if he was afraid he’d betrayed an old friend.

“Oh...” Loe coughed as he was brought back to reality from his stunned escape into his own mind. “Yeah, I think so,” he assured. “I had to interfere with Arice, but otherwise I think it worked well.”

Ojam offered his glass via a translucent and slippery protrusion from his slimy side. “Cheers to that.”

Loe took the offer and clanked the bottom of his glass with his friend’s. “I owed you, so we’re square on that now.” 

“Putting yourself in debt immediately after by asking me to talk about Cter?” Ojam was quick to follow up almost as if he’d planned it. He received one pouted mouth with lips thinned by pretend anger and another pouted to finish off what was left as an answer. “Alright, alright,” Ojam chuckled. “I need to past the time to wait for her anyways, so why not be a friend while I wait?”

“First time for anything...”

Ojam’s scoff sent the refracting moonlight inside his body dancing across the quiet tavern like an exploding sprite made by a clumsy mage. “Cter’s on a mission of sorts. Didn’t tell me what, but with that cloak of hers it’s not difficult to guess that she’s on Royal Business. I met her when I was visiting family.”

“Family family or job family?” Loe hates to pry, but in this particular situation clarification is necessary.

“Family family this time.” 

“Say hi to them next time from me, would ya’?”

“Sure.” Ojam cleared his throat that he formed just to do the gesture. “Anyways, I met Cter as she strolled into our little village looking for ways she could help. Long story short, she did it in a way I didn’t even think we’d need help with. Turns out we did, and...”

“And you still turn slightly pink just thinking about it.” This time Loe both worded and said it as teasingly as he could. It’s true though, Ojam turned more and more pink as he spoke. A clear sign that he was feeling flustered over it. Ironic since he became more opaque with his pink hue, but who was Loe to get stuck on technicalities despite adorning his wall with such. “Sorry, continue.”

After a hard furrow that didn’t even need eyebrows or eyes to come across, Ojam continued with his pink tint fading just the slightest. “And it was the first time I ever felt indebted to someone.”

“Besides me.”

“FIRST TIME I ever felt indebted to someone.”

Well in that case Loe isn’t gonna bring up another almost-empty bottle that he’s already sold its content for profit with.

…

Oh who is he kidding, of course he gonna. Again he added just as much to his own glass as he did the third one before offering the rest to Ojam who gladly accepted it.

“And as Cter explained where she was going next and what she was doing I felt that it was appropriate to explain to her my services. Took a while to convince her that it was just a service, and nothing more, as it does with all humans, but in the end she accepted.”

“Took a while to convince her of the magic transfer too?”

“No, actually,” Ojam emphasized via a raised finger formed on his appendage holding his glass with an urgent ‘schlop’. “Turns out Cter is the reason for my career.”

“The...magic...transfer?” said Loe while putting a tentacle over another the same way Ojam put his appendage onto a mage’s sleeve to copy their magic and take on their appearance. The same wet slap as well. “She found that out?” Now wasn’t that a surprise? “So you felt you owed her twice?”

“First and second time I ever felt indebted to someone,” Ojam corrected with the same sarcasm that poured out of Loe’s mouth.

“No, I was being genuine.”

Oh? “Oh?” Now wasn’t that a surprise.

“Because you told me that you found that out through a Royal Guard’s loosened lips, didn’t you?” Loe remembered while snapping one his tentacle’s grip. “No wonder Cter was given that cloak if she found that out!”

“Shh!” Ojam hushed harshly despite being fully aware that it was only the two of them there. “To be honest I’ve felt bad ever since I met her. She didn’t seem like the other Monster Mages. It’s just...maybe I feel like I’m using her discovery without her permission?”

Loe had never seen Ojam this...compassionate towards a mage. It began leaning more and more towards the yellow label staying on and not going into the trash, that’s for sure. “Would explain why you flubbed too.” Finally it landed somewhere in between teasing and worrying.

“I changed into a monster first which was strange, but I guess that’s the monster part of Monster Mage.” Ojam let a shoulder and arm form in that monster’s shape and color. “A blue one with scales.” With his new fingers he tapped at the glass with a filed-down claw. “Don’t know who exactly,” spoke a more feminine voice before being subdued by a hard wallow. “But she was important to Cter as I saw her gasp the same way I did when I saw how much Chillsgirl had grown.”

“She takes more from her mother, I’m guessing?”

“As we planned, yes.”

Loe had by this point leaned forwards on four of his tentacles. “You’d think that the news of another Monster Mage would’ve reached us by this point,” he said as he rolled his neck over to the neatly piled cloak and narrowing his eyes against its bright shine. “With the new tax codes traveling as fast as a ghost possesses a scarecrow one would assume that the news of a fourth Monster Mage would be as fast. I’d barely organized Sund’s receipt before he was announced, so it’s not like I’m talking out of my left mouth here.” The slight outburst was quickly accommodate by a long and huffed sip through Loe’s right mouth.

“Yeah, well, I’m just as confused as you are about Cter wearing a Royal Cloak and not being a Monster Mage,” Ojam informed sympathetically while letting his scaled arm fade back to his more natural slimy consistency. “Tried to ask her, but that only brought out such long and dark shadows across her face that not even her hood could produce.”

“That newfound indebted respect silenced you afterwards?”

A squirm permeated throughout Ojam like a struck tuning fork for a second, changing his returning subdued brown back to the opaque pink. He sighed, which almost had him melting flat over the barstool and dripping down on the wooden floor. “She’s a human!” he expelled as if it would change reality if he acknowledged it. “A human mage, and not only did I offer to give her an alibi for free, I flubbed her appearance, and I’m regretting it!” Bubbles replaced a tired raspberry, and he poured the rest of his drink onto him like a bucket of water over a plot of flowers. “Next thing I know I’ll be walking into my own house as a human and never changing back...”

Loe’s following chuckle summoned two angry eyeballs rolling around the rim of the barstool’s seat until they collided and came to an even angrier halt looking hard at the tentacled bartender.

“Well I’ll make sure to keep some human ale ready for you then, Ojam,” informed Loe with a loving smirk as he poured the last drops from the last bottle onto his slime friend. Gurgled swears emerged from the sentient puddle, which only furthered the smirk into a chuckling grin. After disposing of the two empty bottles, Loe cast an eye towards the clock on the wall. Less than an hour is beginning to run out now. Maybe he should try and get some cleaning done. Let Ojam be alone and reflect both physically and mentally for a while. “Just don’t get too depressed and stain my floor, will ya’?” he asked of his friend before grabbing a couple of brooms.

“I’ll try...”

Three fourths of the tavern was swept before the distinct sound of a carriage began approaching from the west. No horse on it though, which was a bit strange to Loe’s ears. He went ahead and unlocked the tavern door and ignited the white heart again to signal what must be Cter arriving. “Your boss is here~,” he whistled to Ojam, who rigid himself up more presentable. Straightening his...back...and turning on the stool to meet the human about to enter.

After some hesitant knocks and a verbal invitation from Loe, the mage Cter entered timidly. Not really how Loe would’ve imagine how a Monster Mage would enter, to be perfectly honest. Why would they ever be sneaky and timid in the land of the monsters? Not even in Xoff and Hjearta did they have to act carefully, so why here in this humble tavern?

“H...hello?” the mage said into the moonlit tavern and almost regretting it instantly. “My name is Cter, and my cloak should be here.”

Her appearance too stuck out to Loe. Not only was she as fair-skinned as Ojam showed up in, but her soft and young features that he Loe thought was just another of Ojam’s flubbing Cter wore on her own person. This young and in possession of a Royal Cloak? Younger than even Kurant as a Monster Mage?

Strange…

“I’m here, Cter,” Ojam waved over with a lightly-green appendage. “I’d imagine that you’re in a hurry, so just take your cloak and go.”

Scurrying over like a child sneaking over to fetch some cookies in the dead of night, Cter clumsily waltzed over to the counter where she spotted her cloak. With it pressed up against her chest underneath her crossed arms she bowed to Ojam and then to Loe before excusing herself as if she was intruding on something monster with her human presence. Not even Loe dangling the glass with layered alcohol in it she noticed, and instead closed the door behind her after a quick thanks. Barely a second passed by before the carriage began rolling again, and Loe was almost convinced that it’d taken off without her. He looked into the glass he’d saved for her.

And then at the portrait wall.

Then back at his glass.

Then down underneath the bar to find the yellowed label.

Then into the garbage barrel where he threw the yellow label and the flask it was barely attached to.

Then lastly into the bottom of his glass as he chugged it down his throat. “Monster Mage, huh?” he forced out as the poorly-mixed liquor scratched at his throat. “Maybe that’s why the news travel slowly.”

Ojam sighed a quiet giggle as the sound of a glass being put down hard in disappointment reverberated behind him. He knew exactly how Loe felt. The same leaning back and narrowed furrow when the face didn’t match the title. That was the thing with these humans though. Ojam’s emotions and intent were on constant display, but when he took on the appearance of a mage those emotions were hidden underneath his borrowed skin.

After a while he could even pick up what lay beneath an actual human’s skin.

Not Cter’s, however. That didn’t faze him though. If anything it strengthened his belief that she in fact was a Monster Mage. 

With emotions on full display.

“Now can you please go home so that I can go to bed, Ojam?”

Like that.


End file.
